Tulsa
by printandpolish
Summary: This is the story of Cinnamon Curtis, the Curtis sister between Soda and Pony. To see how she turned out, read Going Home Again. Please R&R STORY COMPLETE Nov. 4, 2005
1. Chapter 1

_Melliea suggested this, but it's been in my head, along with my first fic, for a long, long time. I don't own the Outsiders, only Cinnamon. For those of you unfamiliar with Miss Cinnamon Marie, check out "Going Home Again" at http/ always, reviews, suggestions and corrections are welcome, but bear in mind that this is Cinnamon's POV, and she's as stubborn as her brothers. _

**Chapter 1**

I pushed myself back and forth on the old swing, feeling the rhythm, liking the cadence. I didn't think I'd ever be too old to love the swings. I loved the park, even though it was run down and all the equipment was faded and rusty. When I was a little girl, I played here for hours and hours. I felt safe here. I suppose it wasn't exactly safe; nothing anywhere really is anymore, but it was smack in the middle of our turf and it was as secure as anywhere else in our rundown neighborhood.

It was late fall, starting to get chilly. I pushed myself to my feet and headed for home. My brothers Soda and Darry would be home from work soon and Darry'd fuss if I wasn't in. He was only 20, and he'd always acted older than his age, but since our parents died and he became our guardian, he'd grown cold and stern. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him smile. Before, he was enough older than me – I'm 15½ – that we didn't pay much attention to each other, but now he was all in my business and yelling all the time. I was starting to be a little afraid of him, to tell you the truth.

I turned onto the block and saw the rest of the gang coming the other way. There were Darry and our brother Soda, who was almost 17, my younger brother Ponyboy, who was 14, Soda's best friend Steve Randle and Keith Mathews, whom we called Two-Bit because he always had to have the last word. Dally was there, too. Dallas had been in jail. I'd lost track of what for this time and when he'd be out. And Johnny. Johnny Cade, who was smaller than his age and timider than a church mouse from getting walloped all the time by his old man. Johnny was the nicest boy I knew.

I met them on the sidewalk in front of our house.

"You just getting home?" Darry asked, his eyes narrowing.

I ignored him, looking at Ponyboy instead. Soda had a hand on his shoulder and there was blood on Pony's face. "What happened?" I asked.

"Kid got jumped," Two-Bit answered.

I gasped and reached out for him.

"I'm all right, Cinnamon, don't fuss," he said, and I put my hand down. Later, I'd clean him up and sneak a bandage on it, but for now, he wanted to look tuff. I suppose that's hard with a big sister.

"How'd that happen?" I asked.

"I was comin' home from the movies," Pony said quietly. "I didn't think …"

"You don't ever think," Darry broke in, and I tuned him out, turning to Dally. "When'd you get out?" I asked.

"Earlier this week. Good behavior," he said, blowing a smoke ring. That made me laugh. The idea of Dallas Winston being the warden's pet was pretty amusing.

"Something funny?" Darry asked impatiently.

"No," I said.

Dally ground his cigarette out. "I'm walking over to the Nightly Double tomorrow night," he said. "Anybody want to come and hunt some action?"

"Me and Soda are picking up Evie and Sandy for the game," Steve said. He looked pointedly at Ponyboy. Steve hates it when Soda asks Pony or me to pal around with them. He acts like he's jealous or something. Mostly, I say no, unless I'm going that way anyway. I can't stand Steve, but I don't say too much about it, because he's Soda's best friend and I love my brother.

"Me and Pony'll come," Johnny said. "Cinny? You want to?" He looked at me shyly.

"Sure, I'll go," I said. I'd known Johnny my whole life, just like the rest of the boys, and he had always seemed like an extra brother. Until recently. He liked me, too, I knew, though neither of us had really said anything. That's okay. We got time.

"Awwww," Two-Bit pouted, "I thought I could get this pretty girl to go with me."

"What makes you think I'd go out with a thieving hoodlum like you?" I asked. Two-Bit pretended to look crushed.

Darry cleared his throat.

"Glory," I said, annoyed, "Darry, can me and Pony go to the movies tomorrow night?"

"Watch your tone," he snapped. "And since it ain't a school night, yes, I suppose you can."

The gang made their goodbyes and the four of us went into the house. I started dinner, meatloaf, peas and potatoes. My meatloaf wasn't quite as good as my mother's had been, but it was still passable. After, Soda did the dishes and I settled down to do homework. First, though, I pulled Ponyboy into the bathroom and made him sit on the edge of the tub while I cleaned off his cut and put a bandage on it.

"Aw, don't do that, Cinny, I'll look stupid," he complained.

"If it gets infected your face will fall off and then who'll look stupid?" I said. He rolled his eyes at me but let the bandage be.

Pony vanished into his and Soda's room with a book. I tried to do geometry but it didn't make much sense. I thought about asking Darry for help. He'd been pretty good in school, but he was so impatient he'd be fussing at me the whole time. I sighed and closed the book. Maybe Mrs. Mayron, my teacher, could help me.

Soda wandered into the kitchen and checked the fridge for chocolate cake, which is what the boys have for breakfast most days. Me, I usually can't eat until noon.

"Pony okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah, I think so. He was just a little spooked." He sat down at the table with me. "But he was just walkin', Cinny, just mindin' his own business. Things are getting bad. Don't walk alone, okay? If you get stuck, call the station, I'll come after you." Soda had quit school this year and worked full-time, with Steve, at the DX station.

"Okay." I hated being a greaser – not because I was ashamed, but because the whole rivalry between the greasers and the Socs, those stupid south-side socials, was pointless. They had money and thought they were better than us. We were tough and thought we were better than them. The truth was, we were all struggling to get along. "Good glory, don't y'all pee the same?" my mother used to say. She was right. I missed her.

"I'll see you in the morning, Cinny-spice."

"'Night, Soda."

A minute later I heard him hollering at Ponyboy to shut out the light. They'd been sleeping together for months, since shortly after Mom and Dad died, because Ponyboy was having nightmares. He'd woken up every night, for weeks and weeks, screaming bloody murder. Soda's presence seemed to help. I was ready to join them, but Darry wouldn't let me. He said it wasn't proper, because I'm a girl. But when he finds me curled up next to Soda, or in a quilt at the foot of the bed, he never says a word. He just wakes me up for school and sends me on my way, with this little sad look on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

After school on Friday, I went home and picked up the house and threw in some laundry before I met the boys. I was fuming the whole time. It wasn't my turn, but I didn't have any clean underwear. Boys don't care so much about dirty underwear and I was damn tired of picking up the slack just because I was the only female in the house.

I was in a foul mood. I'd hung out after school to see if Mrs. Mayron could help me with my geometry. She stammered and stuttered and finally sat down with me, way far at the other end of the table, like I smelled or something. I know we're poor, and I know most of my clothes used to be my brothers', but I use soap and shampoo, for God's sake.

Pony had left already. Darry was working. Soda was in the bathroom. After taking the longest shower known to man, he was now primping for his date. And the dryer was taking forever.

"Dammit! Cinnamon _Marie!_" he cussed.

"What?"

"Quit usin' my razor on your legs!"

I felt my face flush. I'd meant to change the blade, but I forgot.

Soda stuck his head out of the door, a towel around his waist, a piece of toilet paper stuck to his chin.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I don't know why you don't just ask Darry to buy you your own," Soda said. "It's not like -- " He broke off at the look on my face and shook his head, disappearing back into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, I had clean underwear and Soda was ready to go. After what had happened to Pony the day before, he insisted on walking me down to the Dingo, where the boys probably were, even though it was only a few blocks away.

"Here." Soda pressed two crumpled dollars into my hand. "Buy a razor. And candy at the movies. Share it with Ponyboy, dig?"

I kissed him, not caring who saw. "You're the best brother in the world," I said.

"Yeah, I know," he grinned. "Y'all have fun. Be back right after and don't walk alone."

"I won't. Have fun with Sandy."

The Dingo is one of the drive-ins we go to. It's a pretty rough place, but I know most of the kids who hang there and I know when to run, so it was okay. I ordered a Coke and sat down to wait. There was no sign of Dally, Pony or Johnny.

"How y'all doin', Cinnamon?"

I turned to Curly Shepard. Curly was a nice enough guy but he had a mean streak a mile long. His brother Tim headed up the Shepard gang and while we weren't exactly their allies, we were all greasers.

"Hey, Curly," I said. "You seen Dallas?" I was a little leery of Curly and I wanted him to know I was expected somewhere by someone at least as tough as he was.

"Winston? You meetin' him?" Curly smiled at me, in his best attempt to be charming. "Cinnamon Curtis, you're a beautiful girl. Ditch that hood and come let me show you a good time."

"Curly, my brothers would skin me alive if I went out with you," I said. I was only half-joking. Darry's bark was generally worse than his bite, but he'd threatened a couple of times, and a date with Curly Shepard just might push him over the edge.

Curly laughed and shook his head. "I ain't itchin' to get my skull busted by Darry," he allowed. "Go on, there's your date."

Pony and Johnny were standing in the doorway, looking around, presumably for me. I slid off the stool and crossed the room.

"What the devil you doin' hanging out with Curly Shepard?" Pony demanded.

"Waitin' on you. Hush. Let's go."

Dally was outside, talking trash to some guy in a Mustang. As we walked down toward the movie, he said he'd seen me talking to Curly and since he was feuding with Tim, was avoiding the whole Shepard gang.

"Darry'd tan your hide if'n he saw you talkin' to him," Dally observed.

"Then don't tell him," I said irritably. He snuck under the fence, like he always did, but I went around front and paid my quarter, just to irritate him. Dallas hates doing anything the legal way.

Once inside the gates, I went straight to the snack bar. I hadn't eaten dinner and I was starving. I bought popcorn and candy bars for me, Pony and Johnny and as I was leaving, Linda Beck, sitting with Debbie Spalus, waved me over. I groaned to myself. There was no way to avoid her.

"Hey, Lin, Debbie," I said, sitting down with them. "I can only stay a minute, my brother's waiting."

"Oooh, which one?" Linda squealed.

"Pony," I said, taking a handful of popcorn. I held the box toward them but they both shook their heads, pretending not to look disappointed.

I don't have many girlfriends. And most of that is because my brothers, particularly Sodapop, are movie-star handsome and I can never tell if a girl wants to hang out with me because she thinks I'm cool or because she thinks I'll bring her 'round to meet the boys.

"How's Soda?" Debbie asked.

"He's fine."

"He here?"

"No, he's out with Sandy."

Debbie and Linda exchanged a glance. "What?" I asked.

"They got back together quick, is all," Debbie said.

"Back together?" I repeated.

Another glance, then Debbie said, "I saw Sandy with Larry Joseph, right at the start of school. Couple of times. They looked awful cozy." I felt my mouth fall open, and Debbie said quickly, "Must not have been nothin', though, if you didn't know."

"No," I said weakly. "Must not have been nothing." I stood up. "I have to find Ponyboy. Y'all take care."

Pony and Johnny were sitting in the chairs in front of the screen. Two-Bit was there, and they were talking to two Soc girls. I sat down on the end of the row, next to Johnny. "Here, I brought you candy," I said.

They introduced me quickly – Cherry and Marcia, cooling off after an argument with their boyfriends.

"Where's Dally?" I asked.

Johnny was trying not to smirk. "He tried to pick up Cherry here and she threw her Coke at him."

"And you lived to tell the tale," I said. She smiled. She looked like a nice girl. Pony was making all kinds of eyes at her, and Two-Bit and Marcia were getting on just fine. They both had that crazy sense of humor. It just proved my point, that people were just people and that stupid rivalry was just that – stupid.

We settled down to watch the movie. About halfway through, Pony and Cherry got up to get more popcorn. Johnny glanced over to be sure Two-Bit wasn't paying attention and then put his hand on top of mine. It was soft and strong at the same time. I ran my finger over his knuckles and I couldn't have told you what we were watching to save my life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When the movie was over, we walked toward the entrance, the boys arguing over their current dilemma – they wanted to see Cherry and Marcia and me all home safely, and we lived nowhere near each other. They finally decided to go over to Two-Bit's and get his car. I really didn't want to go with them. Normally, I'd have just walked myself home, but I was a little spooked after Pony's being jumped. Besides, I promised Soda.

We were passing the Dingo when I spotted Sandy and Evie sitting inside. "Here, y'all get these girls home and I'll get Soda to run me back."

"Are you sure?" Johnny asked, worried.

"Sandy's there, so he must be, too," I said. "It's fine." I looked at Ponyboy. "Come right back, Pony, Darry'll be waiting."

"I will. Tell him I'm fine, okay?"

"Okay." I smiled at Johnny, feeling suddenly shy. "See you tomorrow."

"Tuff enough," he answered, just as shyly.

I sprinted into the Dingo, in the best mood I'd been in all week. Sandy and Evie were sitting in a corner booth, deep in conversation. They look startled when I came up to them, like I'd interrupted something important.

"Hey, Cinnamon," Sandy said. I was startled to see she looked like she'd been crying.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your date," I said. "But I promised Soda I wouldn't walk home alone. I thought he could take a minute and run me over."

"Soda ain't here," Evie said roughly. I think she knows I can't stand Steve, even though we've never discussed it. I don't like her much either, come to think of it.

"He's not? Where is he?"

"It wasn't my turn to watch him," Evie said frostily.

"I'll take you," Sandy said. "I've got my daddy's car." She looked meaningfully at Evie. "Wait here, okay? I'll be right back."

As we pulled out of the parking lot, a blue Mustang nearly ran us off the road. Sandy swore and looked ready to start crying.

"Did you and Soda have a fight?" I asked finally.

"Yeah. Well, no, not really. He doesn't --" Sandy took a deep breath and pulled over to the side of the road, about a half block from our house. "Look. I don't want him seein' the car and comin' out, can you walk from here? I'll watch you."

"What's going on?" I said. When she didn't answer, I said, "Sure, that's fine," and started opening the door.

Sandy started to cry then, really hard. I closed the door again and put one hand on her shoulder.

"Sandy, whatever happened, it's all right," I said. "Soda loves you, you know he does."

"I know," she sobbed. "It's not – I'm -- I'm late, Cinnamon. Really late."

I knew she wasn't talking about her curfew. "Good glory," I whispered. "Does Soda know?"

"It's not his," she whispered. "We didn't – we never -- "

I took my hand off her shoulder, suddenly cold. "How could you do this to him?" I said in a shocked voice.

"I don't know," she answered miserably.

"Larry Joseph," I said, suddenly remembering my conversation with Debbie and Linda. I fumbled for the door handle. This was going to kill Sodapop.

"Wait a minute." Sandy dug around in her purse and handed me a folded note. "Can you give this to him?"

"No, I cannot," I snapped. "You want to be a two-timing bitch, you can tell him yourself. I ain't doin' your dirty work for you."

I got out and slammed the door as hard as I could and walked briskly toward the house.

"He'll wonder where I went," she called after me. I stopped, but didn't turn around. "My parents – they're sending me to Florida, to my grandmother's house. Please, Cinnamon. _Please._"

I looked over my shoulder. She was holding the note out the window. I went back and snatched it out of her hand. She said more, but I shoved the note in my pocket and ran for the house, ignoring her.

Darry was in the kitchen when I came in. He looked at the clock. "Where's Ponyboy?"

"Seeing some girl home. Where's Soda?"

"Behind you," he answered, pushing me playfully. "Pony's got a girl?"

"Some girls from the movies. They had fights with their boyfriends. Pony said to tell you he's fine and he'll be home soon." I stuck my hands in my pockets, fingering Sandy's note.

"That boy has no common sense," Darry muttered.

I went into my room and changed into my nightgown, which was actually Darry's old football jersey from high school. It came down to my knees. "Sodapop!" I hollered.

"What?"

"Come tuck me in!" I couldn't think of anything else, and I knew he'd come. And he did, though he was looking at me like I had two heads. I patted the bed next to me. "Sit down."

He did, and I handed him Sandy's note. I waited quietly while he read it, trying not to peek at it over his shoulder. About halfway through, he let out this little gasp and I leaned my head against his arm and rubbed his knee.

A minute later, he said, "She told you?"

"Yeah."

"Don't tell Darry."

"'Course not."

"It'd be better to just come home married," he said. "If I tell him, he'll try to talk me out of it."

I gaped at him. I expected ranting and raving, punched walls, and maybe, just maybe, some crying, but I never in a million years expected calm.

"Married?" I said faintly. "She said her parents were sending her to Florida."

"I'll head over there first thing in the morning," he said. "She can tell me what happened, and we'll explain it to her folks. We definitely ought to be married to have a baby."

"Soda," I started, then stopped. I wasn't sure what to say. He had to know, I mean, if they hadn't –

He chuckled softly. "I know. But if we're married, and I'm raisin' him, he'll be mine, won't he?"

I was speechless. I didn't know if he was the greatest guy in the world or the most stupid.

Soda stood up and pocketed the note, then slid me under my quilt, tucking me in as if that was really what I'd wanted.

"Soda, are you sure?" I said. "Because you should be sure, before you ask her."

"I'm sure I love her. Nothing else matters." He kissed the top of my head and whistled his way out of the room.

I wish he'd been right. I wish love was always enough to make things work.


	4. Chapter 4

_I don't own anyone except Cinnamon, and I most certainly do not own the plot. In fact, I don't even own some of the dialogue._

**Chapter 4**

I woke up at 1:45 to pee. All the lights were still on in the living room. Soda was stretched out on the sofa, sound asleep, but Darry was sitting in the arm chair, looking worried.

"What's wrong?" I yawned.

"Pony's still out," Darry answered. "Cinnamon, where were they going? Who were those girls?"

I started to answer when I heard the creak of the front stairs. Ponyboy crept in, chewing nervously on his fingernails, and Darry exploded.

"Where the heck have you been? Do you know what time it is?" Darry hollered. "Well, it's two in the morning, kiddo. Another hour and I would have had the police out after you. Where were you, Ponyboy?" He was screaming now. "Where in the almighty universe were you?"

Soda stirred on the couch. I wasn't surprised Darry woke him. Hell, they could probably hear him in Oklahoma City.

"I … I went to sleep in the lot," Pony stammered.

No one else but Pony could fall asleep in the lot. He was probably watching the stars. Darry kept yelling, the usual stuff he hollers when he's mad, about orphanages and Pony's lack of common sense. With me, it was usually orphanages and my bad attitude. Apparently, I had sense but no ambition.

I looked at Soda worriedly. Pony was practically cowering and I could see tears in his eyes.

"Darry, come on, you can yell at him in the morning," I said.

"You shut up and mind your business, Cinnamon Marie," he snarled with such anger I backed up a step into Soda.

"Darry --" Soda began, and Darry turned on him.

"You keep your trap shut!" he yelled. "I'm sick and tired of hearing you stick up for him!"

For a few seconds we were all shouting at once, then Ponyboy screamed, "Don't you holler at him!" Darry wheeled around and slapped him so hard it knocked him against the door.

The room went quiet. It was like someone flipped a switch. Then Ponyboy scrambled to his feet and out into the night as Darry screamed after him, "Pony! I didn't mean to!"

I pulled away from Soda and ran into my room. I couldn't believe it. No one hit anyone in our house, ever. My parents never even hit us. My mind reeled with some of the stupid things we'd done as little kids – including Soda pushing me off the porch roof because we thought I could fly. Even when we probably deserved it, no one ever laid a hand on any of us. Who the hell does Darry think he is?

I pulled on my jeans and threw the first thing I could find over my nightshirt, which was an old gray sweater of Darry's that Mom had knit for him when he was still in school. I shoved my feet in my boots and ran back down the hall.

"You ain't going anywhere," Darry said. "I'll go."

"He'll run from you," Soda said. Darry looked stunned. I headed for the door.

"Come back here," Darry scolded.

"What, you gonna hit me too, you bastard?" I spat at him. I was down the porch steps and gone before he could answer.

I went to the vacant lot, sure Pony would be there. It was empty, save for a pile of newspapers that made me wonder if Johnny'd been sleeping out. I went by Johnny's and Two-Bit's, but the houses were dark. I even went by the Dingo, though it was closed, and checked behind the trash barrels in the back. Nothing.

_Dammit. Dammit, Pony, where are you?_

I was heading back to the house, thinking I'd ask Soda to take the car and help me look. I didn't intend to talk to Darry ever again. Suddenly, in the quiet of the middle of the night, I heard a thin scream coming from the park. It sounded like Johnny.

I ran the block to the playground and when I came down the path my breath froze. Johnny was lying on the ground, a bit away from the fountain. And there were four or five Socs at the fountain, dunking something in the water.

The something came clawing up for air, and I saw a flash of wet auburn hair.

All thought, reason and sense went out of my head, and I ran faster than I ever ran in my life and hit the Soc with his hands on Ponyboy as hard as I could. He shoved me off and stumbled forward into the water. One of the other ones picked me off the ground and threw me into the roundabout. I saw stars. The wind was knocked out of me and for a long, agonizing moment, I couldn't breathe.

Couldn't breathe.

Pony couldn't breathe.

I gasped in a big lungful of air, but there was a hand at my mouth. I bit down as hard as I could and was rewarded with a slap in the face.

"Son of a bitch!"

I screamed. I screamed for Darry and Soda, the police, the gang, Jesus, Mary and Joseph – for anyone.

"Shut her up!"

"They're drowning my brother!" I screeched. "Help, someone, they're drowning my brother!"

The Soc pulled me off the roundabout and tumbled us both to the ground, pinning me under him. He must have outweighed me by 50 pounds. "Oh, I like 'em feisty," he said, and pulled at my collar so hard he ripped through both my sweater and my nightshirt. His hand went all the way down to my breasts, groping at my bra. I didn't usually sleep in one but I was so small-chested I sometimes forgot I had one on..I was thanking God for my forgetfulness tonight.

Somewhere behind me, I could hear splashing. I kept screaming, but now I was hollering Ponyboy's name, pleading with them to stop.

"Come on, baby, we'll have some fun," the guy said in my ear. His breath smelled of beer. His hands were all over me, trying to undo my jeans, trying to touch me as I tried to wriggle away.

Then, without warning, he let me go. I could feel, rather than see, the Socs running away, and I looked around for the police. Someone must have come, I thought. But there was no one, just Johnny hauling Ponyboy out of the fountain, and I stumbled over to help. He dumped Pony in my lap and slid down to the ground, like all of a sudden he couldn't bear his own weight.

"Pony? Pony, honey, wake up, talk to me," I pleaded, lightly tapping his cheeks. He was freezing cold and soaking wet, but I could see his chest rising and falling so I knew he was breathing, thank God. "Johnny? Run up to the house and get Sodapop, okay? And bring blankets, as many as you can find."

"I killed that boy," he said.

"What?" I looked over at him. Next to him, lying in a pool of spreading blood, was one of the Socs, Bob, I think his name was. Johnny was clutching his switchblade, which was dark to the hilt. He looked green. "What did you say?"

Pony started to cough. His eyes fluttered open and met mine. He was staring at my chest and I realized my torn sweater was wide open. I pinched it closed with one hand, stroking Pony's face with the other. "Shh, Pony, it's okay, you're okay," I said. I could hear my voice getting high and hysterical and I took a deep breath. "Can you sit up? It's okay."

"I killed him," Johnny said again. Pony rolled off my lap and threw up, then sat up, leaning heavily against me. I put my arms around him, staring straight ahead at nothing at all. I couldn't tell if the shaking was from me or from him.

"You really killed him, huh, Johnny?" Pony whimpered.

"Yeah. I had to." Johnny's voice was trembling. They were drowning you, Pony. They might have killed you. They had a blade. And one of them was trying to take Cinnamon's clothes off."

"What are we going to do?" Pony said, his voice thin and panicked. "They put people in the electric chair for killing people!"

I tightened my grip on him. I could feel him starting to cry. "Stop it. Stop it, no one's going to the electric chair." I looked at Johnny. "Are you sure he's dead?"

"Glory, Cinny, look at all the blood," he whispered.

I let go of Pony and crawled over to Bob. I put my hand in front of his mouth and concentrated on feeling some breath, no matter how faint. But there was nothing.

"Jesus, Johnny," I mumbled. "Jesus."

Johnny looked around wildly. "We gotta get out of here," he said. "Run away. We'll need money. And maybe a gun. And a plan."

"No, no, no!" I shouted. "No, we're going back to our house, we'll call the police, explain what happened --"

Johnny snorted. "Oh, yeah, they'll believe us. They'll believe that all-American boy over there not only tried to drown Ponyboy, but beat me up a couple of months ago, too. Sure. Those Socs'll all cover for each other and buy their fancy lawyers and you two'll be in the reformatory and I'll be waitin' for the chair." He shook his head. "No. You go on home if you want to. I'm goin' to see Dally. He'll know how to get us out of here."

Pony and I followed Johnny over to Buck Merril's, a tall shady cowboy who'd gotten Dally a job at the Slash J rodeo. Pony and I were forbidden to go anywhere near his place. Mostly, we followed Johnny because we didn't want him to be alone.

He pounded on the door and Buck opened it. Smoke and the smell of whiskey and cheap perfume wafted out with him. "Whatta ya want?"

"We need to see Dally," Johnny said.

"He's busy."

Ponyboy stepped forward. "Tell him it's Pony and Johnny. And Cinnamon. He'll come."

And he did, a minute later, shirtless and barefoot and looking like we'd woken him up.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Johnny killed a Soc," Pony said. Dally stared at us as Johnny poured out the story, then pulled us inside.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbled. "Go on, go right upstairs, this is no place for you – especially you," he said, pointing at me. He squinted. "Who ripped your sweater? Hold it closed, Cinny, people can see. Ponyboy, are you wet? Jesus Christ."

We followed Dallas up the stairs. He got Ponyboy a dry shirt and threw a button-up at me before leaving us there, mumbling under his breath. Pony and Johnny turned around while I got rid of my ruined nightshirt and pulled the ripped sweater back over Dally's flannel.

Dally came back and handed Johnny $50 and a gun, giving him terse instructions about a train to Windrixville and a church we could hide in.

My head was spinning. This was all happening way too fast. "This is a bad idea," I said desperately. "We should go home, tell Darry. He'll know what to do. They were tryin' to kill Ponyboy, we can tell them …"

Pony looked stonily at me and said the only word that could upset me more: "Orphanage."

He was right. The only reason Pony and I got to stay with Darry is if we behaved ourselves. And what about Sodapop? Soda was still a minor, too, and he'd be sent away, right along with me and Ponyboy, because this mess would surely prove that Darry wasn't a fit guardian. We might not see them again. Ever again, or at least until Pony was 18. I thought about not seeing Soda for four years and I really started to cry.

"Cinnamon, get a grip on yourself, come on, now," Dally said roughly. He shoved a handkerchief into my hand. "We ain't got time for this. Y'all gotta go and catch that freight."

"Dally," I said, "tell Soda …"

"I ain't telling nobody nothing," he interrupted. He walked us to the door and turned out the porch light before letting us out.

"Be careful. Lay low. I'll come up when I can." He reached out a hand to ruffle Johnny's hair. "Go. Go now."

We ran into the night, toward the train station, me in the middle, holding both Johnny and Ponyboy's hands.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_No. That ain't right. Where's Mom?_

I tried to snuggle down. I was freezing.

_Don't – don't – Dad? _

Why don't he shut up? Why's the bed so hard?

_Sodapop!_

I wish Pony would stop shut up. I'm trying to sleep. Why is he so loud?

Ponyboy.

I sat up abruptly. I was on a hard, wooden, dusty floor in an old abandoned church on top of some hill the locals thought was a mountain. Ponyboy was a few feet to my left, thrashing around and moaning. As I reached out to him, he drew a deep breath and let out a blood-curdling scream. Johnny was startled out of the pew he was sleeping in and he hit the floor with a thump.

I scooted over the few feet and pulled my little brother into my arms. I gave him a gentle shake. "Pony! Ponyboy, wake up, you're dreaming."

He opened his eyes, shivering, and looked at me, then ducked his head into the crook of my arm. "Oh, my God," he whispered. "I dreamed Johnny killed a Soc."

I hugged him tightly. "No dream, honey," I said in a choked voice.

He looked around then, taking in the dimly-lit room and me in Darry's ripped sweater, with Johnny looking wide-eyed at him. I could see the memory flooding back into him. He took a deep, shuddering breath and I think if Johnny hadn't been sitting there, he'd have burst into tears. His grip on my arm tightened.

"Darry hit me," he moaned.

"Shh," I soothed. "I know. It's all right."

I rocked him. I didn't know what else to do; this was Soda's job, and when the dreams were bad, Soda was usually the only one who could calm him. I rocked him quietly, stroking his hair, until his grip on me relaxed and his breathing deepened.

I eased him out of my lap. "He's asleep," I mouthed to Johnny.

He jerked a thumb toward the door. I got up and followed him, wishing I had something to cover my brother with.

Johnny was leaning against a tree, smoking. "He always do that?"

"Not so much anymore," I said. "But every night when our parents died. Now just when he's really upset."

The night of Mom and Dad's funeral, Pony had woken the whole house screaming his head off, not words, just a long, terrified shriek. We asked what the dream was about and he wailed, "I don't know! I don't know!" and cried on Soda's shoulder like his heart was broken. Of course, it was broken – all our hearts were. We all cried a lot that first couple of weeks, except for Darry. The dream came back, night after night, and he could never remember what it was about. Soda started sleeping with him, and that seemed to help, but Soda also said Pony still sometimes trembled so bad it woke him up. Darry even took him to the doctor, who said something about Pony's overactive imagination. I had a feeling whatever he was dreaming about was all too real.

Johnny stubbed out his cancer stick. "That's some loud shit, Cinny."

"It's scary," I agreed. "But don't tell him. He'll be embarrassed to death." Pony already hated being the youngest member of the gang.

Johnny cocked his head at me. "Wanna come for a walk with me? Dally said there's a store down the road, and we should get some supplies now, before the story's in the paper."

"Sure," I said. "But Pony'll worry."

"Wait here." Johnny crept back into the church, left a note in the dust by Pony's nose, and we were off.

It was a beautiful morning. We walked along in silence for a little bit and then I felt Johnny looking at me. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Something."

He took a deep breath. "You sure are pretty, Cinnamon."

I stopped and stared at him. I was dusty and unshowered and in my brothers' and Dally's old clothes.

"What?" he teased. "Ain't I allowed to say my girl's pretty?"

"Your girl?" I echoed.

He smiled gently. "Sure, Cinny. Ain't you always been?"

And he was right. Johnny held out his hand. I took it, and we walked along in silence. For a few moments my heart was singing, dead Socs and electric chairs and fugitives be damned. Johnny's girl.

Johnny really was the nicest boy I knew. Sometimes, when your parents are mean to you, the sweet gets smacked out of you. It'd happened to Dally, and to a lesser extent, to Steve. But Johnny was just looking for someone to love him, and I had loved him for as long as I could remember. I just didn't know it was the in-love kind of love until the last couple of months.

The Windrixville General Store was right where Dally said it would be. They had everything you could imagine. Johnny headed off to get food – bread, baloney, sodas, apples, cheese – and I came back with toilet paper, matches, a bar of soap, a comb, a bottle of shampoo and a deck of cards. We each added little trinkets to the cart as we made our way to the cashier. I found a blanket, half-off because it was frayed on the ends, and at the last minute, Johnny grabbed a copy of _Gone with the Wind._

I cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Pony always wanted to read it," he said.

"I know."

"Maybe we could take turns, pass the time." He tossed into the cart where it came to rest next to a bottle of peroxide. I stared at it, then added a baseball cap and some bobby pins to the cart.

We'd started back down the road when I said suddenly, "Johnny, wait, I forgot something." I sprinted back into the store and bought a razor, using the crumpled dollar left over from last night. I wasn't all that sure I'd actually shave my legs at that old rusty pump in back of church, but that was what the money was for. I missed Sodapop already. I bet he was worried. I wish I could tell him we were all right.

Pony was up when we got back to the church. We unpacked the bags and I was making us a breakfast of apples and baloney sandwiches when Pony saw the peroxide.

Johnny pulled out his knife. "We're gonna cut our hair, and bleach yours and Cinny's."

"You're not bleaching my hair," I said. "I'll look like one of those cheap girls down at the Dingo."

"Our descriptions will be in the paper and we can't fit 'em," he said.

I figured this out as soon as I'd seen the bottle of peroxide. I took the baseball cap and the bobby pins and fixed my shoulder-length hair up under the hat. I ran my finger through the soot in the bottom of an old woodstove and painted my bangs with it, and then I tore up one of the paper sacks and stuffed it down the front of my jeans.

"Ta-da!" I said. "It's a boy!"

Pony was howling. It was good to see him laugh, but he quit right quick when he saw Johnny still holding the bottle of peroxide.

I headed for the door. They could fight amongst themselves. "I'm going to find some firewood. Maybe we can get that stove going so we don't freeze to death tonight."

I stayed gone as long as I could, taking my time. I didn't want to watch the great hair massacre. I'm not sure why. It's only hair, but it was one of the few things we had that didn't cost money. When I got back, I had to look twice at my little brother.

"I know," he mumbled.

"No, it's not so bad," I began, but he cut me off.

"No, it sucks," he said fiercely, taking the wood away from me and stacking it by the old stove. "It's like being in a Halloween costume you can't get out of."

Tears were running down his face. I put my hand on his shoulder but he shook me off. "Quit it, Cinny, I ain't a baby. I'll be all right."

I went back outside. Johnny was sitting by the pump, shivering because of his wet hair. His hair was short and ragged. "How's the kid?" he asked.

"He'll be all right," I answered, not at all sure it was true.

"I bet your brothers are worried."

"I bet Soda is."

Johnny gave me a sharp look. I leaned against him, sniffling, and we sat that way for a long time.


	6. Chapter 6

I have insomnia. You get an update.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

We did what Dally said. We laid low. We played cards. I got a lucky flush and won all Johnny's cigarettes. I traded them back for kisses while Pony made faces at us. Johnny finding _Gone with the Wind_ was a stroke of genius. That's one long book. But it was perfect – it was gross enough for the boys and romantic enough for me.

It was hard, hiding and being confined like that. We all were bored and easily spooked, by strange noises and by our own random thoughts. But in some ways, it was nice. Johnny and I took to taking long walks at dusk, when it was dark enough to be out of the old church but light enough to see our way. One night, we sat with Ponyboy and watched the sunset, and he recited an old Robert Frost poem. Pony's amazing. I know half the reason I like school and museums and going to the library is because of Pony. He's going to be famous someday. If we ever get out of this church.

"I could live out here," I said the next night to Johnny, as we watched the stars come out. There were so many of them here, without the city lights to get in the way. "Heck, I could even live right here, in the church, as long as you were here."

I'd meant it to sound sweet, but Johnny looked horrified.

"Glory, Cinnamon, this ain't the kind of life I want for you," Johnny said. "I want us to have a nice house and enough money and we don't want to be looking over our shoulders all the time."

In that moment, I understood why Soda was so willing to forgive Sandy and marry her. I could imagine Johnny's dream, a little house, somewhere outside of the city, where we could make a nice, quiet home, something he never had. My house wasn't quiet and Darry had become loud and demanding, but it was still a haven. My brothers could come for dinner on Sundays and we'd play football in the yard, like we did now.

"I think I should turn myself in," Johnny said. "You and Pony, you can't really get into any trouble. And you saw them tryin' to drown Pony, you can testify it was self-defense. You can tell them what … well, what that boy was trying to do." He ran one finger down the rip in the sweater. "I ain't got a record, I could get off easy."

"Pony will kill you," I said. "You made him dye his hair and you want to go back?"

Tears stood in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. "I think it'd be easier to live with, if I went back, got it over with," he said. "And besides, now I got something to straighten it out for."

I looked at Johnny. I knew the police and the Socs and probably half of Tulsa might see a murderer, but I saw a handsome boy who just wanted to be loved and be safe. He'd done what he did out of love for me, and for Pony, too, and because he'd been backed into a corner.

I wasn't stupid. I knew you didn't always end up with the guy you loved when you were in high school. But my mother had. I remembered how, when she thought we children weren't looking, she'd walk by Dad and kiss and neck, or pat his behind, or look at him in this way that somehow made me embarrassed.

"When it all turns out, I'll be here," I said, and we kissed in the moonlight.

We walked back to the church hand in hand. Johnny went inside to start the stove. Pony was standing by the pump, smoking. "Y'all are cozy," he said.

"Yeah, we are." I paused. "Do you mind that?"

"What, you and Johnnycake? Nah. My best friend and my sister, that ain't so bad." Pony took a drag of his cigarette. "Just … just let me in, sometimes, too."

I hugged him as tight as I could. What was he talking about? He was my little brother.

"Cinny? You think Darry's worried?"

"I think Darry's _mad_."

"Yeah." Pony stubbed out his cigarette. "Sometimes I think the only reason you and me are still around is because Soda wouldn't let him send us away."

"Sometimes I think that too. And because of Mom and Dad – because they would want us to be together." I could feel tears rising in spite of myself. "Pony?"

"Yeah?"

"I think Soda's about worried to death."

"Yeah," he said. "Me, too."

* * *

"Good glory, she looks like a boy."

I squinted up at the voice. Dally was grinning down at me. Ponyboy was on his feet in two seconds. "Dally! How's Soda? Are the fuzz after us? What happened?"

"Whoa, wait, one thing at a time." Dally reached out a hand and pulled Johnny to his feet.

"You're some alarm clock, Dal," he said.

Dally shrugged. "Y'all been eating? You look pale."

"You told us to stay inside," I reminded him.

"The cops won't be looking for you up here. I got hauled into the station and kinda let it slip you went to Texas."

"What'd you get hauled in for?" Johnny asked.

"Johnny. Use your head. There was a dead Soc in the park, who'd ya think they were going to ask?"

"Why Texas?" I asked.

He fixed me with a stare. "'Cause you ain't there."

I stood up, trying to dust off my jeans, though I wasn't sure why I was bothering.

"Come on, I'll buy you breakfast. I'm starving."

"You're starving?" Johnny said. "Try eating baloney for a week." He came up behind me and put his hands on my waist. Dally gave us a long, hard look before shaking his head and digging in his pocket.

"Hey, I got a letter for you Curtises."

"A letter?" Pony asked. "From who?"

"From the President," Dallas said sarcastically. "C'mon. From Sodapop."

I looked outside. Buck Merril's T-bird was parked there, but nothing else.

"He ain't here, Cinnamon," Dally said. "He came to see me and found those shirts – his old sweatshirt, the one Pony had on, and Darry's old jersey. He saw that all ripped to hell and for a couple of seconds he thought – well, never mind. But he had the idea I knew where you were. I wouldn't tell him anything, but he didn't believe me." He held out an envelope. "He gave me this."

Ponyboy took it and ripped it open. Money fell out.

_Ponyboy, Cinnamon, _

_Well I guess you got yourselfs into some sort of a mess. Darry nearly went nuts when the two of you never came back, and then what with them finding that dead kid, it scared us to death. The police were here and we told them everything we could. Pony, Darry is awful sorry he hit you. You know he didn't mean it. He hasn't got the slightest notion of where you are at and it is killing him. I know Dally knows where you are but he keeps his trap shut good. I wish you'd come home but I guess Johnny would get in trouble. You all are famous. There was a paragraph in the newspaper, even. I saved it. I wish you'd call, just for a minute so we'd know you're all right. I miss you. Take care of each other. Say hi to Johnny. _

_Sodapop Curtis_

God, I wanted to see him.

Dally took us to the Dairy Queen in Windrixville. Pony and Johnny both got huge banana splits and I had a cheeseburger for breakfast. Anything that wasn't baloney.

"Things are bad," Dally said. "The Socs and us are having warfare all over the city. That kid you killed had plenty of friends. You can't even walk alone. I started carrying a heater --"

"Dally!" Johnny scolded. No one else would ever have gotten away with scolding Dallas.

"It ain't loaded, kid, I ain't stupid," Dally said. "We're having it out tomorrow night, a rumble in the lot. If we win, they back off our turf and let us be." He smiled broadly. "And we got us a spy. That red-headed Soc from the movies, the dead kid's girl."

"Cherry?" I said.

"Yeah. Little traitor."

No, I thought, she just wanted it to stop.

"She said them boys was itchin' for a fight," Dally went on. "She said she'd testify. That guy, Randy, he said they tried to drown Pony. Socs telling the truth. What's the world coming to?"

I looked at Johnny. He leaned over the front seat and said to Dally, "We're going back."

Pony choked on his ice cream. Dally's face went white and hard and he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot so quickly Ponyboy's Pepsi went flying out the window. Johnny explained everything he'd told me the night before. I put my hand on his shoulder and kept it there while he talked.

"Blast it, Johnny, why didn't you think of this five days ago?" Dally grumbled.

"I was scared," Johnny said simply. "I still am. But I can't stay in that church my whole life, and it ain't fair to have Soda and Darry worrying about Pony and Cinnamon." He paused, then said, "I don't suppose my parents are worried about me?"

"The boys are worried," Dally said. "Two-Bit was packed up to go to Texas to find you."

"Did my parents ask about me?" Johnny repeated.

"No," Dally snapped. "So what? My parents don't care. They never came to see me in jail, never notice when I ain't there – it don't bother me none."

And it didn't. But it sure bothered Johnny. I slid next to him and put my arms around him. I didn't care what Dally thought.

"Johnny," Dally said, "think about this. You get hard in jail. You don't want to go to jail."

"You rather have me on the run for the rest of my life?" Johnny asked. "Because if you do, I'll go – but you have to take Pony and Cinnamon back."

"No," I whispered.

"Cinny, I --" Johnny started, but then he realized I wasn't talking about his potential disappearance. Dally had come over a crest and the church was full in front of us. It was on fire.

We jumped out of the car, with Dally hollering at us to stop before he broke our necks. We ignored him. There was a crowd in front of the church, mostly little kids, and Pony asked what happened.

"Don't know," a good-natured man said. For some reason, I thought of Soda – he'd be like that in twenty years, not much bothers him, no matter what happens around him. "We were having a school picnic up here and then, poof!"

"I bet we started it," Pony mumbled at Johnny. Dally came up behind us, still cussing under his breath. I shot him a look – did he not see these little kids?

Then we all heard it – faint screaming from inside the burning building, just as a frantic woman ran up, yelling, "I can't find all the kids!"

We took off running, the three of us, with Dally bellowing at us to come back, and suddenly Johnny skidded to a stop, turned to me, and shouted in my face, "Stay here!" Before I could answer, he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into a bruising kiss. "Stay here. I love you. Stay _here._"

I nodded and he and Pony sprinted into the burning church. A few minutes later, a window broke and they started handing kids through. I got as close as I dared, along with that good-natured guy, and herded the kids back to the adults. I couldn't hear myself think. I never knew fire was so loud.

Dally went past me, pushing me behind him, back toward safety. "Get back, the roof's going!" he yelled. "Ponyboy, Johnny, Jesus Christ, get the hell out of there!"

Ponyboy was halfway out the window when Dally knocked him the rest of the way out. I ran forward to drag him out of harm's way. He was out cold and the back of his jacket was smoldering.

Then there was a terrific crash and Hell fell in on Johnny and Dallas.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The fire department must have been on the way because it seemed like they were there instantly. Dally had dragged Johnny out of the window at the last minute. He was swearing a blue streak. Johnny was crumpled into a ball. His face was dark with soot and I could see his arms were burned. They wouldn't let me anywhere near him. Ponyboy was still unconscious and they shooed me away from him, too. I sat on the hood of Buck's car and talked to the firemen and the policemen. I answered their questions, all of them, too much in shock to think of plausible lies, and when they asked if there was anyone they could call, I gave them Soda's name and our phone number.

They let me ride in the ambulance with Pony. I held his hand and stared out the window. We were a couple of miles from the hospital when he finally came to.

"Where …" he began, then started to cough.

"You're okay," I said calmly. "We're going to St. Francis."

"Where's Johnny and Dally?"

"In the ambulance behind us."

"Dally hit me," he said, almost pouting.

"Your back was on fire," I answered.

"Are they … did they …"

"Dally burned his arm, pulling you guys out," I said. "He's fine. He was still cussing when they loaded him in. They wouldn't tell me about Johnny. That fat guy thought his back was broken." I snorted. "They think we're heroes. And I think I made up our names."

They tried to separate us when we got to the hospital but Ponyboy made such a fuss they let us sit together on a tiny gurney, behind a curtain in the emergency room. We both waved the doctors off but I made Pony let them look at his back. Dally's jacket had saved his skin but he was going to have one hell of a bruise.

We went back to the waiting room and did just that, waited, hoping someone would give us news on the boys. They wheeled Dally and Johnny past us. Dally was still swearing at us, telling Pony if he ever pulled such a dumb stunt again, Dally would kick his ass. Johnny was still. So still. He looked small on the gurney. I stood up and took a step after him. Pony stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"I want to go with him," I whispered.

"I don't think they'll let you," he answered gently. "Come on, stay with me."

"No, Pony, you're okay, I want to go with Johnny."

He led me back to the chairs and lit a cigarette. I was staring at the door they'd wheeled Johnny through. Pony was still rubbing my shoulder and I was wondering if he'd bother to chase me if I just got up and went after my guy.

"Are you the Curtis kids?" a man asked. "There are some people here to see you. Claim to be your brothers or something."

We looked over and Darry and Soda were coming down the hall. Pony bolted for Soda, who caught him in a hug and swung him off the ground. I was right behind him, crashing into the two of them, almost sending us all to the floor. I had started to cry, and I think Soda was too, trying to get his arms around the both of us at once, and all of a sudden I felt Pony clutch at my hand.

I followed his gaze to Darry. He was just standing there, with his fists jammed in his pockets … and he was crying. Tears were running down his face. Darry never cried. I had decided, when Mom and Dad died, that he had forgotten how. Soda and Pony and I had spent a couple of weeks bursting into tears without any warning, but Darry just walked around with that hard look on his face and took care of everything, in the cold detached way that became his new demeanor.

We all stared, then Darry turned away. His shoulders were shaking with sobs. Pony broke away from me and Soda and ran to him, hugging him tightly.

"I thought we'd lost you guys, like we did Mom and Dad," Darry wept.

I looked at Soda. "I did, too," he whispered, his eyes welling up again. And in that moment, I got it. Darry did love me, so much so he was terrified something awful would happen to me. Or to Ponyboy, or to Soda. And because of Mom and Dad, he knew something awful could. I watched Ponyboy sobbing against Darry's chest and I knew he understood, too. Darry had lost his parents, just like we had. He was only twenty. He wasn't old enough to have three kids – but he did. How did we forget that?

Pony stepped away, wiping his eyes, and Darry held out his arms to me. I stepped into them and let him hold me tight. He swept the baseball cap off my head and I could feel his tears on my hair.

"I'm so sorry," I cried. "We're both so sorry."

He shuddered. "They just said there was a fire," he choked. "We didn't know – oh, glory, Cinny, seeing you and Pony running to us is about the best thing I ever saw in my life."

Darry kept an arm tight around me as we walked back to the waiting room. There were policemen and reporters and photographers, all firing questions at all, asking us about Johnny and Dally and the fire. Ponyboy looked ready to pass out. Darry finally told them to quit and leave us alone, then he left us with Soda and went off into the corner with a policeman. They talked for a long time.

No one would tell us anything about Dally and Johnny. Darry got hold of the doctor and convinced him that we were close enough to family. I guess the fact that no one blood related to either of them had shown up was proof enough.

Dally'd be fine – what I'd overheard was right, his arm was burned, but he'd regain full use of it. Johnny was a different story. He was in critical condition with third degree burns and a broken back. They had him doped up for the pain and if he lived, he'd be paralyzed for the rest of his life.

_If?_ What did he mean, if?

"He's calling for Ponyboy and Cinnamon," the doctor said. "And Dallas."

"I'm Cinnamon," I said. "Can I see him?"

"Not now. It's family only." At Darry's hard look, the doctor said, "If you come back tomorrow, I'll let you in."

"Cinny." Soda tugged gently at my hand. "C'mon, let's go home."

"No, you can go. I'm going to stay with Johnny."

"No, sweetie, come on, we're going to go home." His voice was low and soothing. "You heard the doctor. You can come back tomorrow. I'll bring you myself."

I shook my head and slid onto the floor. I was exhausted and couldn't see straight and the tears just kept coming. Soda finally leaned over and picked me up and carried me out to the car. I couldn't do anything to stop him. Pony lay down in the back seat and fell asleep in Soda's lap. I sat in front with Darry, watching Tulsa go by like it was underwater.

When we got home, Darry carried Pony into the house. I went directly into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I stood under the hot water a long time. I washed my hair twice but I swear it still smelled like smoke. And I couldn't stop crying.

I heard the door open.

"I'm in here!" I yelled.

"I know," Darry said. "I brought you clean clothes." A minute later the door closed softly.

I stayed in there until the water started to go cold. Any other time, Darry would be yelling at me to hurry up. When I was done, I looked at what he'd brought me – clean underwear, warm socks, and one of Mom's old flannel nightgowns. My dirty clothes were gone.

I dressed and brushed and braided my hair, then crept out of the bathroom. I looked into Pony and Soda's room. They were both sound asleep, Soda's arm across Pony's neck. Darry had crashed, too, with his clothes still on. I pulled a blanket up over him and turned out his light.

I didn't think I'd sleep at all, but I must have, because the next thing I knew there was a ton of noise coming from the kitchen and light was streaming in my window. I laid there for a minute and placed the voices. Soda and Darry, getting ready for work. Pony. Steve and Two-Bit, too. I wondered what time visiting hours started at the hospital.

My door opened a crack. "Cinnamon?"

"I'm awake."

Darry came in and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm not going to school," I said.

"It's Saturday," Darry answered. "Two-Bit's going to hang here."

"I could keep a better eye on Two-Bit than he could me," I said scornfully. I stretched and winced. My back was killing me from sleeping on the floor for a week and from dragging Pony across the church yard.

"Y'all are in the paper," Darry said. "Hoodlums turned heroes."

"Dally's a hoodlum," I said. "Not the rest of us."

Darry smiled. "Soda and me are going to work," he said. "You take care today, stick close to home. There's been trouble, don't go out alone."

I didn't answer. Darry did something then he never did – he leaned over and kissed my forehead. "Sure am glad you're home safe, Cinny-spice," he said, and left, closing my door behind him.

I didn't want to see anyone, or talk to anyone. I just wanted to see Johnny. I waited until I heard the car leave, and until I heard Mickey Mouse come on TV, which meant Two-Bit was totally distracted, then I got dressed and, leaving a note on my pillow for Ponyboy, went out the window.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

I got to the hospital well before visiting hours but I marched right up to the desk anyway and asked where Johnny's room was. The lady looked at me skeptically.

"He's in the ICU. Are you a relative?"

"I'm his sister," I lied immediately.

"Do you have any ID?"

"Of course not. I don't drive yet. I might have a library card." I pretended to search through my pockets and she waved me off.

"Never mind. Room 554. Fifth floor, take a left off the elevator."

I stopped at the gift shop and bought a newspaper. There they were, my brother and my boyfriend and the toughest hood I knew, and me – me! – on the front page, with our pictures and everything. I looked horrible. I tucked it under my arm and headed for the elevator.

Johnny was sleeping, or unconscious, or maybe he just had his eyes closed. He was bare-chested and his arms were bandaged to his elbows. He looked awfully pale.

I pulled up a chair next to him and he opened his eyes. "Hey, baby, where you been?" he said hoarsely.

I leaned over and kissed him. "They wouldn't let me stay last night." I unfolded the paper and said, "We're famous."

"We are?"

His voice was so weak. I had to take a deep breath and wait a minute before reading the articles aloud. There were two, one an account of the fire and one about Bob Sheldon and what had happened that night in the park. Then, as Johnny drifted off to sleep, I turned the page and read a story about us, me and my brothers, how Mom and Dad had died and Darry was working his head off to keep us together, how Soda left school to help and what good students Pony and I were. It talked about Pony's running track and Darry's being the football team captain when he'd been at school. At the very end, it said there was a juvenile court hearing for Pony and Johnny and me in a couple of weeks, and that after how hard we'd worked to stay together, we shouldn't be separated now.

Separated? Like, foster homes and orphanages?

Johnny made a little squeak. I went to him right away. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just … I can't feel so much. I busted my back."

"Yeah, they told us last night." I smoothed his hair back from his face.

"You … you oughta go, Cinny. You'll be pushing me … pushing me in my wheelchair," he said, struggling to get the words out. "You .. you don't want a paralyzed guy."

"Johnny, you hush," I said, sharper than I meant to. "Your heart's not paralyzed. Besides, I love you."

He smiled.

"I love you, too," I said, trying not to cry. "I didn't get a chance to tell you yesterday, but I love you, too."

I sat there into the afternoon. Johnny mostly slept, but I was content to sit by his bed and stroke his hair and whisper comfort to him. Tim Shepard poked his head in, on his way to see Dallas, and came over to give me a quick, rough hug, telling me he was glad I was all right. Tim's not nearly as scary as Curly is.

Ponyboy and Two-Bit came in a little after three. Two-Bit came over to me right away and hugged me before turning to Johnny. Pony was making a scolding face at me, probably mad about my going out the window.

I wasn't in the mood to fight with him. I left them with Johnny and went to stretch my legs. When I came back, Ponyboy was heading out of the room.

"Y'all leaving?"

"Goin' to see if the gift shop has _Gone with the Wind_," he answered. "Come with me. Two-Bit's with Johnny. Though he may go into a coma if Two-Bit don't stop cracking his bad jokes."

We walked along for a minute and Pony said, "You should've just gone out the front door. Actually, you probably should have gotten up. There was interesting news in our house this morning."

"I saw the paper."

"Did you see about the court hearing?"

"Yeah."

"Darry says the cops talked to him about it last night," Pony said. He shuffled his feet nervously. "And Sandy's gone."

I stopped and pulled him to face me. "_What_?" I had forgotten all about Sandy and her letter. "She went to Florida?"

"Yeah. She was gone last weekend, Soda said."

"The baby's not his, Pony," I said quietly.

"Yeah, he said – but you knew? How'd you know?"

I filled him in quickly, my stomach twisted with guilt. Us and Sandy in the same week. I was never going to misbehave or disobey Darry again, ever. And what if that hearing didn't go well? What would happen if Pony and I were sent away? And Soda … damn, Soda wasn't even seventeen yet. Soda would go, too. Soda was cheerful and sweet and gentle, but I didn't know if he'd survive without his family.

When we got back to Johnny's room, Two-Bit was coming out, his face pale. Johnny's mother was in the hall, arguing with the nurse. I hadn't seen her in a long time, and she was thinner and more ragged looking than I remembered. She looked like a wisp of a thing, but I'd seen her take swings at Johnny that left bruises for days.

"What do you mean he won't see me?" she demanded shrilly. "I'm his mother!" Her eyes narrowed as she spotted the three of us. "You let in those … those hoodlums – and you won't let in his own mother?"

Her gaze fell on me and she pointed a bony finger in my direction. "You. You're that little slut he ran away with, ain't you?"

I went cold. Two-Bit stepped in front of me and for a minute I thought he was going to take a swing at her. He didn't, but even though she was both a woman and Johnny's mother, he cussed her out good.

Ponyboy handed the book to the nurse. "We'll go," he said. "Could you please give this to Johnny?"

She nodded, then turned her attention back to Mrs. Cade. We high-tailed it out of there.

"C'mon," Two-Bit said, one hand comfortingly on my shoulder. "We'll go see Dally, then get you two home. Your brothers'll be home in a couple of hours, huh? And tonight's a big night."

Yeah. I needed to talk to Soda. I needed to tell him I was sorry.

I let Two-Bit walk a little bit ahead of us and pulled Pony closer to me. "Hey," I said hesitantly, "I'm not, you know that, right?"

"Not what?"

"Not … not what Mrs. Cade said," I stammered. "We didn't – I mean …"

"I know," Pony said quietly.

"But if I'd know this was going to happen, I might have," I said to my feet.

Pony turned my face so I'd have to look at him, like he was the older one. "Cinny," he said gently, "even if you had, that wouldn't make you what she said."

* * *

Dally was ornery and sullen, partly from being in the hospital and partly from being worried for Johnny. We didn't stay long, but before we left, he made Two-Bit hand over his prized switchblade.

As we passed by the lot on the way home, Cherry Valance was sitting there in her little Corvette. Pony and Two-Bit stopped to talk to her but I kept going. She'd seemed okay, but when you came right down to it, she was still a Soc, and my boyfriend had killed hers. If the situation was switched around, I sure wouldn't want to talk to her. Still, I knew we were probably a lot alike, in more of the ways that mattered than those that didn't, and I didn't like thinking about it.

I beat Pony home by ten minutes or so. I ducked past the kitchen where Darry was making dinner so I wouldn't have to hear him fuss at me about walking alone.

The door to Pony and Soda's room was closed, which was fairly unusual. No doors in our house were ever closed, unless someone was in the bathroom or getting dressed. I tapped on it with one fingernail. "Soda? You decent?"

"Decent enough," he answered, and I pushed the door open. He was in his jeans, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on a pair of socks. I sat next to him and he smiled and threw one arm around me. "If you ever scare me like that again, Cinnamon Marie, I swear to God I'll skin you," he said.

I grinned. He would not. "I won't."

"Good girl."

I took a deep breath. "Ponyboy told me about Sandy."

His jaw tightened and he stood up abruptly, hunting for a clean shirt. The boys always got all spruced up to fight. "That's all right."

"Want to tell me what happened?"

"No, not really," he said flatly. I laid back on the bed and waited. Pony's pillow smelled faintly of smoke. In a minute, he started talking, just like I thought he would. "I went over there on Sunday, but she was gone. I told her parents I wanted to marry her, take care of her – and her daddy threw me out. Her mother felt bad and gave me her address at her grandmother's house. I'm writin' her. We'll figure it out, me and her. It's not her daddy's business anyway. And Darry said he'd do what he could to help."

"You told him?"

"I kind of had to – we were all lookin' all over for you two, and I was heading out to Sandy's. He didn't quite take too kindly to that."

I suddenly realized something. He hadn't gone to Sandy's first thing Saturday, like he'd planned. "Oh, Soda, I'm sorry," I said miserably. "I really am. If we hadn't gotten into that mess, you'd have been at her house on Saturday. Her parents saw the papers, too, didn't they? About that Soc being killed?"

"It don't matter. Her plane left at five o'clock. Saturday morning." Soda sighed. "They wasn't takin' any chances."

"I'm still sorry, Soda."

He grinned crookedly at me. "It's all gonna be okay, Cinnamon. We're going to whip those Socs and get the neighborhood back. Sandy'll be back. Johnny'll be better. So what if he can't walk? We'll carry him. We'll build ramps. Everything's gonna be fine."

I smiled at him. I wanted so badly to believe him.

"You love Johnnycake, huh?" he said knowingly. When I nodded, he sighed. "There ain't nothing like it, being in love. It's the best and the worst thing, all together."

He was right, but I hadn't had enough of the best yet.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The boys were gone. I was pacing. It was always like this during rumbles. I stayed home and paced and made lots of ice and set out the iodine and bandages and aspirin. It was the only time I ever bolted our door. I hated it. Before they left, Pony got it into his head to take an informal poll on why everyone liked to fight. I wish he'd asked me. I thought they were right stupid.

I looked at the clock. Seven-twenty. They were getting the hell pounded out of them, right this minute. I wanted so badly to just be with Johnny; I'd thought of running down to the hospital but there was no telling how long they'd be. Besides, I was the alibi – if the cops showed up, Pony and Soda were under strict orders to come right home, and if anyone asked, we'd been in all night in front of the TV. I even had it on in case anyone was to ask what we'd been watching.

Ten minutes later, the boys started to stumble back in. Steve looked the worst, it looked there was a hole clear through his face. Darry and Soda were banged up and bruised and Two-Bit was bleeding badly. I handed him an ice pack as Soda went fishing for the car keys to take Steve over to the clinic. Despite this, they were jubilant – the Socs, apparently, had gone running for the hills.

"Where's Ponyboy?" I asked, and Darry and Soda looked at each other as if they'd just noticed he wasn't there.

"He took off with Dally," Two-Bit said. "He's all right. I mean, he's a little beat up, but he's okay." He took the ice pack and went to get a beer from the fridge.

"Dally? Dally fought with a burned arm?" I asked.

"You ever know Dally to stay away from a fight?" Darry asked. Fair enough.

Steve and Soda were back in record time. I was amazed – the wait at the clinic was usually hours long. On the way out, Soda said, they'd seen Tim Shepard, but everyone else was either nursing their bruises at home or too drunk to realize they needed medical attention.

Two-Bit was in the same condition. It was almost an hour later before he finally settled down enough to let me look at his hand. "Two-Bit, you ought to go to the clinic yourself," I said, examining his raw knuckles.

"Nah. Wrap me up and I'm good," he said, taking another swallow of beer.

I was sitting on the arm of the sofa, painting iodine carefully on Two-Bit's hand, when Ponyboy staggered into the house. It was almost nine o'clock; Darry was just starting to worry. He looked awful. He looked beat up, but he looked sick, too.

"Where have you been?" Darry demanded, and then, seeing the sick look on Pony's face, amended gently, "Ponyboy, what's the matter?"

"Johnny … he's dead," Pony said, his voice hitching. "We told him about beatin' the Socs and … I don't know, he just died."

The room stopped. Everything stopped. Pony took a step toward me and I stood up, the bottle falling form my hand to shatter on the floor. "Ponyboy, you shut your mouth," I said.

Soda was looking from me to Pony like he couldn't decide where to go.

"Dally's gone, he couldn't take it --" Pony said. "He just ran out."

"Shut your mouth!" I cried. I took another step toward him, my hands out. He backed away, like I was going to hit him. Was I? Why was he lying? Why would he hurt me like that? Johnny wasn't dead, he was hurt and he had a busted back but he wasn't dead. Someone was holding me back and it was loud, so loud, who was screaming? Why was there screaming? _Lemme go, I just want to put my hand on Pony's arm, just to push him, just a little, and make him stop –_

Then Two-Bit shook me, hard, and smacked me across the face. The screaming stopped. It must have been me.

"Jesus Christ, Cinnamon, shut up," he said coldly. "You ain't gonna make him undead by hollerin' like that."

I closed my eyes. Someone was hugging me. Someone was crying. I didn't bother to look to see who it was.

The phone rang and I jumped away from the sound. Darry answered and listened for a second, then told us Dallas had just robbed a grocery store and we were going to meet him at the lot. No one told me not to come, so I went right along.

Dally was coming into the lot from the other end and we could hear sirens. He ran under the street light and pulled his gun from his waistband. His gun. His unloaded gun. But the cops didn't know that.

Soda and Steve were shrieking that the gun wasn't loaded. Two-Bit had stopped and was holding up his hands like he was being shot at himself. Dally hit the ground and we ran to him, stopping short of where he fell. The cops were radioing for an ambulance but it didn't matter. You could tell it didn't matter. Steve stumbled forward, crying, but Soda caught him and pulled him back.

Darry stepped in front of me, blocking my view. "Cinnamon, you don't want to see this."

He was too late – I'd seen my brother almost drowned, the boy I loved half-burned to death, a puddle of blood by a playground fountain. I opened my mouth to tell him that and something brushed my arm. It was Pony, swaying on his feet.

"Glory, look at the kid!" Two-Bit cried, and Pony's eyes rolled back in his head and he hit the pavement before I had a chance to try to catch him.

"The hell?" Soda cried, dropping to his knees beside him. "Pony? Ponyboy!" His hands were all over Pony's body, patting and probing – he thought he'd been shot, too.

"He fainted," Darry said, one hand on Soda's shoulder. "He just fainted."

"Darry." Soda had one hand on Pony's face. "He's on fire."

* * *

Though the ambulance had been called for Dallas, it was Pony they loaded up and took to the hospital. Soda went with him; Darry and I went back to the house and followed in our old Ford. Darry kept one hand on the wheel and one arm around me. For the second time in as many days, we were back at Saint Frank's, waiting for news. But this time, we were actual family and they let us stay with Ponyboy, for the most part. He had a fever of 104 and a concussion and was suffering from exhaustion and shock. I had no idea you could get sick from being too tired and too upset. He'd been kicked in the head during the rumble, and hitting the sidewalk hadn't helped.

There wasn't a lot to do except wait. The doctors bandaged his head and tried to break his fever with cool compresses. Soda and Darry stripped him down to his underwear but then Pony started shivering so badly his teeth rattled. The docs wanted to put a needle in him, to keep fluid in him, but Pony fought it and Darry couldn't bear to hold him down. They finally left us alone, telling us to call if anything changed or if Darry changed his mind about the needles, and telling us to try to make him drink.

I busied myself getting water and ice chips and clean cloths. I tried to put one on Pony's forehead but he jerked away from me, moaning for Sodapop.

Soda went to him immediately and took his hand. "I'm here, buddy, here I am."

Pony tried to push him away. "No … don't touch me, I want my brother." Tears were running down his face. "Where's Sodapop?" he whimpered. "Why's it so cold?"

"What's wrong with him?" I whispered to Darry.

"He's delirious," Darry answered. "His fever's so high he's hallucinating."

Pony kept whimpering and Soda got into the skinny gurney with him, somehow folding himself around Pony's back, and held him tight. Pony kept crying, but he was too weak to fight Soda off.

"He's so hot," Soda said, pushing Pony's damp hair off his forehead. "How can you be that hot and be okay?"

"Here." I handed Soda one of the cool rags. He pressed it to Pony's forehead and Pony jerked like it had acid on it. Darry took it away and ran it gently over Pony's face, his neck, his chest. Pony continued to make weak attempts to get away.

I left. I couldn't stand watching it. I backed out of the room then took off down the hallway. I didn't know I had an actual destination until I found myself in front of room 554.

Johnny wasn't there, of course. He was gone. That messy black hair, unruly smile, his hands that could touch the side of my face and make me feel all weak and flushed … all gone. Dally was gone, too, but he'd taken his own life. He just got the cops to help. He didn't want to live without Johnny. I didn't want to live without Johnny either, but I didn't want to get myself shot.

I thought of how Johnny scolded Dally, how Dally would mess up his hair or make sure he had money for a burger when his folks threw him out, and suddenly I realized that Johnny was the only thing Dallas loved. I'd lost my parents, and I'd lost Johnny, too, but I had my brothers. I loved all of them – Darry scared me sometimes, and we argued, but I knew we loved each other. How could you live without love? What would have happened to me if my brothers had been in the car with Mom and Dad that day? What would happen now, if Pony didn't get better? What if the state took me and Soda and Pony away? How could I live without my brothers?

I didn't know Darry had followed me until he sat down on the floor beside me and handed me his handkerchief. I completely lost my head and he pulled me into his lap and rocked me like I was still a little girl. "I know this is all too much, Cinnamon," he said soothingly. "But I'm here. I'm right here."

"Everyone's going, Darry," I sobbed. "Mom and Dad and Johnny, now Pony --"

"Pony's sick, he ain't dying," Darry said in that same calm voice. "He's not leaving us. We're not letting him."

The last time I'd cried like this was the day my parents died. Not right away, though. I couldn't think about it at first. I couldn't do anything. I was making coffee for the policemen and trying to bake a cake, of all things, when Johnny came in the back door with a bouquet of wildflowers, crying himself. If it hadn't been for Mom, he'd have had no earthly idea what motherly love was like. We cried together on the kitchen floor until I cried myself sick.

I was about to do that again unless I calmed down. I tried to take deep breaths. My little brother needed me.

I looked into Johnny's empty room. "Darry, where is he?" I whispered. "Do they call the funeral home right away?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Can we find out?" I asked. "I want to go if there's a service."

"Of course, baby. We'll all go. Of course we will." Darry smoothed my hair back and eased me gently to my feet. "Come on, before Soda thinks I couldn't find you."

I looked into the empty room one last time. "Maybe he's with Mom and Dad," I ventured. "He'd like that."

"Mom and Dad would too," Darry said.

Our parents had not been perfect, I thought as we went back to Pony's room. But even when I was mad and annoyed and embarrassed by them, I somehow always knew they were doing their best, and they loved each other and us. I never, ever doubted that. I never gave it a second thought. We were lucky to have them. I thought about never seeing Johnny again, and I thought that, much as I missed them, maybe Mom and Dad were lucky to have gone on together.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

We stayed at the hospital all night but by the next afternoon, Ponyboy didn't seem much better. He slept fitfully, muttering nonsense under his breath. Sometimes he cried. He called for Johnny. He wanted me and Soda and Darry but when we went to him he pushed us away. Finally, when there didn't seem to be much the doctors could do that we couldn't, Darry signed him out and we took him home to try and make him well in his own bed.

Darry sat with Pony on the couch while Sodapop and I changed the sheets on their bed and did a quick surface pickup. We got Pony settled in. He finally seemed to be really sleeping.

"Cinnamon, do you remember that book Mom had? That child care book?" Darry asked. When I nodded, he said, "Any idea where it got to? There might be something in there about fevers."

"I can look."

"That'd be great. And find the thermometer. Soda, make sure there's ice, okay? And every time he opens his eyes, try to make him drink something. I'm going to put on a pot of soup. I don't think he's eaten anything solid since he got home Friday."

This was Darry at his best – composed and in command. It calmed Soda and me, and I went in search of Mom's Dr. Spock book. Their room was Darry's now. I'd always had the smallest room to myself, being the only girl, but the three boys had shared what was now Pony and Soda's room until Darry went to college.

There was a box in the back of Darry's closet, full of miscellaneous Mom and Dad things, and I pawed through it, trying not to look too closely. I found the Dr. Spock book and thumbed through the index quickly. I also found _The Man with the Golden Gun_. I thought Pony might like it, when he felt well enough to read, so I crept into his room and put it on the bedside table, next to the hospital gift shop copy of _Gone with the Wind_. A nurse had brought it down to us, saying Johnny had wanted Ponyboy to have it.

I looked at Ponyboy and he stirred and opened his eyes. "Cinnamon?" he said.

He was looking right at me. Oh, my God. Good boy. I leaned forward. "Hi, honey, I'm here."

"I'm so hot."

"I know, you've got a fever." I took the glass of water Soda had set next to the book. "Are you thirsty? You should drink something."

I put the straw in his mouth and he sucked in a mouthful.

"Cinny – can you …"

I patted his head. "Anything, baby, what do you need?"

"Can you … get Dad?"

_Dad?_ Did he think … or could he … he didn't _see _them, did he?

"Pony," I began, then I started to cry. I couldn't help it. "Sure," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Sure, I'll find Dad."

"Need Daddy, okay?"

"Okay. You go on back to sleep, and I'll hunt him up for you."

He closed his eyes, and I stumbled into the kitchen.

"Was he talkin' to you?" Soda said eagerly. "He knew you?"

"Yeah, he knew me," I answered. "He wants me to get Dad for him."

No one said anything. We all stood there, pretending we hadn't been shocked into tears, then finally Darry asked, "Did you find that book?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Rubbing alcohol. That's supposed to help."

"I'll see if we have any," Soda said.

* * *

Sunday bled into Monday. Darry and Soda both stayed home from work. No one said anything about my going back to school. Pony didn't get much better, but he didn't seem worse. His fever went down to 103 and hung there. We got him to drink, and I kept putting ice chips in his mouth, but he wouldn't eat anything. No matter what Darry tried to feed him, he said he didn't like baloney. He'd always eaten baloney, and Darry and Soda had no idea what changed his mind, but I did. 

Despite Pony's illness, Darry called around to try to find out when Johnny's funeral was. He pulled me into his bedroom to tell me the Cades had had a private service that was already over and done with, and he sat with me while I cried over Johnny all over again.

None of us slept much. Darry pulled the armchair into the bedroom because there wasn't room on the double bed for the four of us, and Soda and me had taken over the other half. Pony was in his own world. He wanted Mom and Dad. He said Johnny didn't mean to kill that Soc. He wanted Johnny. He asked for me. He thought we were still at the church. Nothing he said made much sense and nothing we said got through to him. At four o'clock Monday afternoon, he propped himself up on his elbows and said clearly, "Darry, I'm sorry, you don't need to swing on me. I won't do it again." Darry got up abruptly and went into the bathroom as Soda tried to settle Pony down. I heard the toilet flush and the water running, but I think he was in there crying.

Soda and I took turns curling up next to him, trying to will him to get well. He woke up late Monday night, briefly lucid, asked if he was sick and if Darry was sorry, then fell back asleep. But this time, he seemed to be really sleeping, not hovering on unconsciousness.

I'd fallen into a light sleep myself when quiet voices woke me and I opened my eyes. Darry was leaning forward in the armchair and he and Pony were talking. I reached over and touched the side of his face. The fever was gone.

He smiled at me. "Hey, Cinny-spice."

"Hey, little brother." I could have cried, I was so relieved to see him back.

Then I caught the look on Darry's face and said, "What?"

There was a minute's pause, then Darry said quietly, "Ponyboy was asking me about the court hearing."

"Oh," I breathed.

"Do you think they'll split us up?" Pony asked worriedly.

"I don't know, baby," Darry said softly. "I just don't know."

_No!_ I wanted to shout. _You're supposed to know! You're supposed to say, Of course not, don't be silly, everything will be fine._

"Don't you remember being in the hospital?" Darry asked. When Pony shook his head, Darry said, "You kept asking for us. Sometimes for Mom and Dad, but mostly for Soda."

"Where _is_ Soda?" Pony asked, and as if summoned by magic, Soda stuck his head in the doorway, saw Pony awake and reasonably himself, and bounced on the edge of the bed. "You're better?"

"I think so," Pony said. "I'm just a little hungry."

"I don't think you've eaten since Dairy Queen," I said, stifling a yawn.

"I made mushroom soup," Darry said. "How'd you like that?"

"I'd like that fine," Ponyboy said.

"Soda? Cinny?"

"Sure," Soda said. "Bring us a picnic."

When Darry left for the kitchen, Pony looked at us worriedly. "What all did I say when I was delirious?"

Soda and I exchanged a glance, then he said, "You thought you were still in Windrixville most of the time. You were saying Johnny didn't mean to kill that Soc. You asked for him, and for us."

"And for Darry?" Pony asked.

"Sure, for Darry. For all of us," I said. "Mom and Dad, too. You didn't know we were there." I yawned. "But we were with you the whole time."

"I believe it," he said fondly. "Y'all look awful."

God, I was tired. I was too tired to insult Pony back. I snuggled back down into the quilt. Soda poked me. "Cinny, move, that's my side," he groused. I just scooted closer to Ponyboy. I couldn't have gotten up to save my life.

"Darry'll holler at you," Soda yawned, as he got in next to me and threw his arm over both of us. "He'll tell you it isn't proper."

"Hmm hmm," I mumbled, and when Darry got back, we were all asleep.

_**A/N –** Rubbing alcohol is no longer considered a safe way to bring down a fever, but in 1966, when Pony was so sick, it would have been more common._


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Pony was getting better, even though he still had to stay in bed for another week or so, and Darry tried to get our house back to normal, or what passed for normal since Mom and Dad died. Darry didn't want Ponyboy to stay alone at first, and I volunteered to stay with him, but we'd both missed almost two weeks of school, so he sent me back that Wednesday. He'd taken Wednesday off, Soda was taking Thursday and by Friday, they hoped Pony could stay by himself.

Normally, I like school. I didn't love it like Ponyboy and Darry did, but I didn't hate like Soda had either. Some things were interesting – science was interesting, how things in nature worked together. I'd always liked to read so I didn't mind English. Math was even okay, even though I felt like my Geometry book was written in Japanese. But I was scared to go back. Johnny had been in two of my classes and Pony and I always walked together. I wanted to be home with my family. I wanted to just lie on the bed next to Ponyboy and read the rest of _Gone with the Wind. _

Even though Two-Bit walked with me, so I wasn't actually alone, I felt like everyone was staring at me as we came into the school yard. He stood with me until the first bell rang and then, with a puzzled look, left me by the front stairs. I couldn't make myself go in.

"Hey, Cinnamon!" It was Angela Shepard. Angel and I weren't exactly friends, with what my brothers thought of her brothers, but we'd always gotten along fine and we had each other's backs when we needed to.

Angela looked at me looking at the building and smiled kindly. She knew the score. "Come on, I'll walk in with you," she said. "Maybe some Soc will talk some trash and I can pound the shit out of them."

"Nah," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I turned away. "I'm not going. Thanks, though."

I walked down to the DX and waited while Soda finished pumping some lady's gas. He came over to me, wiping his hands on a rag. "Why ain't you in school?" he said.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I just … I thought I'd wait for Ponyboy."

He gave me a look, a look that seemed to look into my soul, and I shifted uncomfortably. "Well, you ain't hangin' out here," he said, and pointed firmly to Steve's car.

He brought me home and Darry jumped about a foot when we came in the door. "Cinnamon, are you sick?" he demanded.

"No, not exactly," I mumbled. I looked pleadingly at Soda, but he just stood there with his arms folded across his chest, looking as stern as Darry. I had to look away. I couldn't stand him looking so disappointed.

"Don't tell me you're ditching," he said, his voice rising.

"Not exactly," I said again.

"Then what, exactly?" Darry asked, completely perplexed.

"I just wanted to be here," I said lamely. "I just … I just wanted to be at home."

Soda's expression went from stern to understanding. He shot Darry a meaningful look and came over to put his arms around me. "Cinnamon. We'll all still be here when you get home from school," he said gently. "Darry and Pony, anyway, and I'll be on my way."

"I know."

"Then let me take you back," he said, his voice still soothing. "I'll even walk you in. We'll give Mr. Withers a heart attack -- he'll think I dropped back in."

"I ain't ready," I whispered to his chest.

Darry sighed and pulled his car keys out of his pocket. I braced myself for the fight. Instead, he said to me, "Stay with Ponyboy, you hear? Soda, you best get back to work." And he left.

I wandered into Pony and Soda's room, where Pony was sitting wide-eyed, like he couldn't believe Darry hadn't hollered or grounded me or worse. Honestly, I didn't believe it myself.

An hour later, Darry was back. Ponyboy was drawing pictures and I was sprawled on Soda's side of the bed reading _The Man with the Golden Gun. _Darry dumped a huge shopping bag between us.

"Here," he said. "These are your schoolbooks, for both of you, all the assignments that you missed and all your work through next week. Cinnamon, if you're going to be home, by God, you're going to study. And Ponyboy, if you feel well enough to draw and smoke and complain about how bored you are, you can do some catching up, too."

He leaned over and pulled the novel out of my hand and I flinched. I didn't mean to, I didn't think about it, I just did. Darry's mouth fell open.

A few months back, during a screaming argument about one thing or another, Darry had yelled, "I swear to God, Cinnamon Marie, I'm going to take you over my knee and you won't sit down for a week!" I didn't believe him, but he took a furious step toward me and I ducked behind Soda and out the back door.

"Cinny," Darry said slowly, "you afraid of me?"

All I could do was shrug. I never really thought he'd hit me -- but then he'd slapped Ponyboy.

I sat up straight and started unpacking the books, sorting mine from Pony's. I couldn't look at him.

"Thanks, Darry," Pony said finally.

"You're welcome," Darry said roughly. "Yell if you need help. I remember a thing or two about a thing or two." He paused, then continued, "I want you to be all set to go back. The hearing is Monday, and you're both going back to school on Tuesday, savvy?"

"Sure," Pony said.

"Okay," I mumbled.

Neither of us wanted to ask what would happen if the hearing didn't go well.

* * *

"Cinnamon, your skirt's too short," Darry said.

"I know my skirt's too short. It's the only skirt I have. It's this or Soda's old jeans." I was standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, braiding my hair. There was one piece that wouldn't stay in the plait; I'd already redone it twice. "You can't see my underwear. I had Pony check."

Darry made a funny noise in the back of his throat. I looked at him in the mirror. "What?"

"Nothing. Never mind. Come on, we have to get going."

We were due down at the courthouse in an hour. It wasn't far, but Darry was determined we not be late and he was worried about the early-morning traffic. He and Soda and Pony were all dressed up, too – Pony was even wearing a tie. It was like we thought by looking presentable, we wouldn't be split up.

I tugged at my hem. I hadn't worn this skirt since Mom and Dad's funeral and Darry was right, it was too short. I'd grown since then. Darry was over six feet tall – I wondered how tall I'd end up to be.

Soda came in behind me and took the brush out of my hand. "Come on, we have to go," he said, quickly and perfectly braiding my hair. I tried to smile at him.

None of us said a word in the car. When we got to the courthouse, Pony's doctor was there, talking to the judge. Pony was taking Johnny's death mighty hard, even harder than me, in some ways. I'd heard him say a couple of times that Johnny wasn't dead or that Johnny hadn't killed Bob Sheldon. It was worrisome, but Darry said if we gave him time he'd be all right.

Besides us, Cherry Valance and her parents were there, and Randy, Bob Sheldon's friend, and his parents. Two of the other boys were there, with a couple of men that must have been their fathers. I recognized one of them as the Soc who ripped my sweater and I shivered and slid closer to Sodapop on the worn bench. He put a comforting arm around me. Pony reached over to hold my hand and Darry put his arm along the back of the bench, so some part of him was touching each of us.

We were sitting in order, I realized suddenly, Darry, Soda, me and Pony. It was the way Mom and Dad lined us up for pictures, or to get treats to eat in front of our favorite TV shows, or to bring our plates to the table. If they sent us away, I wondered if we three younger ones could go together. What would it be like to come home from school and not see Darry? To eat dinner at a different table, or to study on a different couch? Sleep in a different bed? Who'd hug Ponyboy if he had a nightmare? Who'd be there for me to crawl in with, even though I wasn't really allowed, if I was lonely or sad or cold? I had to take deep breaths to keep from busting out crying right there.

The judge asked Cherry and Randy and those other boys what happened, and for the most part, they all told the truth. Randy had come to the house to see Ponyboy when he was sick; I guess they were trying to do the right thing. The judge asked Darry and Soda about Dally and what had happened the night Pony and Johnny and I ran away. When it was my turn, he asked me about the night in the park, and I told him that Johnny had done what he did to protect me and Pony; that he wasn't a violent boy but he was afraid for us. The judge also asked me about living with Darry and how I liked school and what I wanted to be when I grew up. I kept puling on my hem even though Darry was looking daggers at me from the front row. Then he asked me if I found it hard to be the only girl in our house. I looked right at him and said, "No, sir. They're my family." Even from across the room, I could see tears in Soda's eyes.

Then it was Pony's turn. The judge didn't say one thing about Johnny or Bob Sheldon. He asked the same questions about Darry and school and then smiled kindly and told Pony to quit chewing on his fingernails. Then he said we were acquitted and the case was closed, and we were all free to go home with Darry.

You'd think, after a scare like that, we'd all be appreciating each other and loving on each other and we'd turn into some kind of perfect little family, but real life isn't like that. We went back to school the next day. Ponyboy and I had both caught ourselves up as best we could while we were out, but three weeks later Pony's grades were slipping. I was doing okay, except for that blasted Geometry. I finally asked Mrs. Mayron to help me, and she told me she didn't waste her time on hoodlums and murders and sent me home. It was worse than what Mrs. Cade said to me in the hospital.

I poured out the whole story to Ponyboy as we walked home, not noticing until we were a block away that he wasn't listening, just looking miserable. "What's the matter?" I asked finally.

"I got a note Darry's gotta sign," he said. "About how lousy I'm doing."

I winced.

"I know," Pony said dejectedly. "He's gonna be some mad. I ain't looking forward to the lecture."

"Want me to sign it?" I said. "He'd never know."

"Yeah, he would," Pony said. "He'd find out. I don't know how, but he would." He scuffed his feet on the sidewalk. "I don't know what difference it makes anyway. I'll have to get a job as soon as I graduate."

This wasn't what Mom and Dad had wanted for us. When Darry was accepted to college, they'd been busting with pride, and to them, it was just proof that the rest of us were headed there as well. But Ponyboy was right, Darry and Soda couldn't support a family of four, not on what they were making, and even though Darry had told us we were not getting jobs while we were in school, I was planning on finding something part-time as soon as I turned sixteen. I didn't know if I wanted to, but I felt like I had to. Things don't always turn out like you expect.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Ponyboy, none too eager to be asking Darry for his signature, took off down to the Dingo with Two-Bit. I came into the house and was rolling up my sleeves to do the breakfast dishes when I saw Darry at the sink, rinsing the last of the soap from them. I glanced down the hall, but all seemed quiet.

"Is Soda home yet?" I asked.

Darry sighed. "Cinny, why can't you talk to me?" he asked quietly.

I was so startled I gave him a completely honest answer. "Because you holler all the time," I said. "You don't really listen. You just shout."

He stared at me, equally startled. "That's what you think?"

"Darry, that's what I know," I said. He opened his mouth and I held up one hand to stop him. "For instance – I know I should have done those dishes this morning. I didn't, because Soda was running late for work, so I ironed his shirt, and that made me not have enough time. So here I am to do them, because it was my turn, but you've already done them and you're fixing to holler at me that I have a bad attitude and I'm sloppy. The only reason I left them is so I wouldn't be late for school because I know you don't want us to be tardy. But you'll be yelling and I'll never tell you that."

"Cinnamon –"

"And if I tell you about Mrs. Mayron, you'll just get all mad and want to go down to school and embarrass me to death, and that won't solve the problem, but I don't know what to do and Pony didn't either and that's why I want to know where Soda is," I finished in a rush.

Darry sat down at the table and folded his hands. He looked for all the world like a little boy who'd just been scolded. "If I promise not to shout and not to go to the school and let you tell your whole story, will you tell me?" he asked.

I considered that. "Do you promise not to call?"

"No. But I promise not to call unless you can't fix it yourself."

That was fair. "Okay," I said, and told him the whole thing, starting with the day she wouldn't sit at the table with me. Darry's face got really red but he kept his promise and didn't say a word, and when I was done, he took a deep breath and told me something I could try. It was kind of nice, sitting there with him. Soda came in a little while later, hollering for the mail, like he always does, and we helped him make dinner. Pony came home and set the table without being asked. It was almost like it used to be.

But it didn't last. As we sat down to eat, Ponyboy, figuring he could use me and Soda as buffers, handed Darry the note from his teacher.

Darry read it and stared at Ponyboy for a long time without saying anything, while Pony fidgeted and played with his potatoes. Soda stared out the back window. I looked at my plate and waited for the explosion, which was quiet, but an explosion nonetheless.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, Ponyboy, but it's going to stop," Darry said finally. "From now on, you're going to come straight home from school and sit here and study, if I have stand over you. You are not getting grades like this." When Pony didn't respond, Darry raised his voice. "Do you hear me?"

"I don't know what the sweat is about my schoolwork," Ponyboy retorted. "I'm going to have to drop out and get a job anyway. Look at Soda – he dropped out and he's doing fine."

"You are not dropping out, and neither is your sister," Darry said through clenched teeth. Somehow, when he was angry, I went from "Cinny-spice" to "your sister," just Pony and Soda's sister, like Darry was divorcing me or something. "We could put you through college, both of you, I hope, but you have to try. You're living in a vacuum, Pony, and you're going to have to cut it out. You don't stop living just because you lose someone. I thought you knew that by now."

I put down my fork and stood up.

"Where do you think you're going?" Darry demanded.

"Away from this," I said, "and if Ponyboy had the sense of a gnat, he'd come with me. You'll never learn."

"Watch your tone, Cinnamon, or --"

"Or what?" I challenged him. "You'll smack me? Yell at me some more? What? You're not the boss, and you're sure not Dad, so quit tryin' to act like him."

Darry's lips got tight. "Anytime you don't like how I'm running things, there's the door," he said.

"You missed your chance," I shot back. "You should have told that judge that, instead of actin' like you were all worried we'd end up in an orphanage. The only reason you didn't is because of Sodapop."

Soda slammed his hand down on the table. All the dishes rattled. We stared at him.

"Stop it," he hissed. "Shut _up._ All three of you. Just shut the hell up." He stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and bolted out the door. An envelope flew out of his pocket and I leaned down and picked it up. When I saw what it was, I wanted to cry.

"It's a letter to Sandy," I said, laying it on the table. "Return to sender. She didn't even open it."

"That was a bad week," Darry said. Pony and I just looked at him. "The two of you and Sandy, in the same week. He cried himself to sleep every night and I couldn't do anything about it."

"He'll be back," I said. "He just needs to cool off."

"No." Darry stood up. "That's what we thought about you two. Let's go find him."

We went to the lot first, then to the Dingo, and then Pony spotted him sitting on a bench in the corner of the park. When Soda realized we saw him, he took off running, but Pony sprinted after him and tackled him to the ground. Darry and I caught up seconds later.

"You should have gone out for football instead of track," Soda said when he caught his breath.

"Where were you going?" Pony asked.

"I don't know. Away. I can't stand it when y'all fight." Soda shuddered. "It's like being in the middle of a tug-of-war."

Pony's mouth fell open. I had never thought of that – when I was fighting with Darry, I was fighting with Soda, too.

"I mean, it'd be easier, I guess, if I could take sides, but I can't. I can see all the sides." He looked at us earnestly. "Ponyboy, Cinnamon – I'm telling you the truth. Darry could have put us all in foster homes and gone back to school. But he didn't. He's given up his whole life so we don't have to be with strangers. And I think we have to appreciate that – not make him the king, but gosh, think about that. I dropped out of school because I'm dumb. You two aren't. I like working at the DX – y'all would never be happy doing that. That's my job. Your job is school. But Darry … " he sighed deeply. "Darry, man, you gotta quit hollering at them for every little thing that goes wrong. You're making them afraid of you, don't you see that? Hell, you're starting to scare me a little. Ponyboy feels things differently from you. And good glory, Cinnamon's a girl, none of us are going to really understand her."

A small smile crept across my face.

"And she's not going to come home pregnant," Soda said bluntly. "I know you're worried about that. She's smarter than that, ain't you, Cinny-spice?"

"Yeah," I said, looking not at him but at Darry. "I am. I don't want babies now."

"You two, you need to listen," Soda continued. "You got to think about what we're telling you, about studying but about coming home at a decent hour and being careful. You think Darry's being mean but he's trying to do what Mom and Dad would have wanted. And if I was in charge of you I'd be telling you the same thing." Tears welled in his eyes. "It's bad enough to have to listen to it, but then y'all try to get me to take sides against each other … no. You can't make me do that. It ain't fair. And none of you see that."

I'd made my brother cry. I'd let him feel alone. I felt sick and ashamed. Pony and Darry looked like I felt.

"We're all we've got left," Soda said, trying to keep his voice steady. "If we don't have each other we don't have anything. We ought to be able to stick together through anything. If we can't – you end up like Dallas. And I don't mean dead, I mean the way he was before."

He was right. I remember thinking that -- how do you live without love? How would I live without my brothers?

"Please," Soda begged huskily. "Please, don't fight anymore."

There was a long, silent moment. Then Darry scooted over the few feet that separated them and put his hands on Soda's shoulders. "Sure, little buddy," he said. "We're not going to fight anymore."

Soda pulled Darry into a bear hug, sniffling. Darry hugged him back, then looked over at Pony. "Okay?"

Pony nodded. "Okay."

He looked at me. "I promise to try," I said. I don't think I had ever meant any promise more in my life.

Darry nodded solemnly. "I promise, too."

We walked home together, all in a row, in our order – Darry, then Soda, then me, then Pony. Soda was right about everything, except one: he wasn't dumb. He'd figured out why we fussed at each other, and he was the only one who could explain it. He wasn't dumb at all.

We reheated dinner and afterward, Pony made a call to his English teacher then settled down to write some theme he'd been assigned. I did all my homework except, of course, Geometry. I looked into the kitchen to see Darry at the table, with a pile of bills and his checkbook and a worried face, and I decided Geometry was not going to get the best of me. I was going to learn it, if I had to bully every teacher at the school into helping me.


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer and A/N: I own nothing here except Cinnamon and a couple of the teachers. SE Hinton, the wonderful author who made me want to write young adult novels, has that honor. Thank you to all of you who took the time to read and review this. I truly appreciate it and Cinnamon is very happy, after all these years, to be out of my head. _

_-- Sox_

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 13**

Two days later, I waited after school for Mrs. Mayron. Pony had been working on his English paper just about nonstop, and he was going to try to finish it in the school cafeteria while I tried to get her to explain the geometric gibberish to me.

Mrs. Mayron came down the hall, looked at me frostily, and went into her classroom. I followed her stubbornly.

"What do you want, Miss Curtis?" she snapped.

"I want to understand geometry." I sat down at her study table, opened my book, and glared at her.

"I told you --"

"You told me you didn't have to teach murders and hoodlums," I interrupted. "Well, I ain't neither one. But even if I was, you'd still have to teach me because this is a public school and my brother pays taxes just like those rich Soc parents."

"Get out of my classroom," she said. She looked horrified. Completely horrified. And something else – she looked scared.

"Something wrong?" Mr. Decker stuck his head in the door. He taught math, too, but to the older grades, trig and calculus.

"Miss Curtis was just leaving," Mrs. Mayron said.

"No, Miss Curtis needs help with geometry and my brother says it's your job to give it even if you do think I'm no good," I retorted.

We stared at each other. Mr. Decker said, "You're Cinnamon, right? I had Darrel in Trig. Come on next door and we'll figure out why you're confused." And then he gave Mrs. Mayron a look that would have frozen a thousand suns. It was wonderful. I never had a grown-up take up for me like that, except my parents. And Darry.

An hour later, I wasn't a math genius, but I was well on my way to being less puzzled. Mr. Decker was patient and he was funny and nice, too. I remember Darry liked him, and I could see why.

"You'll figure it out," he said encouragingly as I left. "Then next year, we'll make sure you're in my class."

I went after Ponyboy, who'd fallen asleep over his notebook. He was finally done, and slipped the assignment under Mr. Syme's door before we left. I dragged him to the Dingo for a Coke to celebrate.

He sat across from me, drinking his Coke and smoking, and eventually said, "Hey, do you think we really could?"

"Could what?"

"Go to college," he said.

I thought about it for a minute. "Yeah," I said finally. "I think we'd have to work and get scholarships, but I think maybe we could."

"We should bring Darry," he said thoughtfully. "He should be able to finish if he wants to."

I grinned. "We'll just wait for you to graduate and we'll all go together," I said. "Soda can fix cars. People everywhere have cars."

"Holy cow." Pony gestured across the crowded floor. "Lookit that."

It was Sylvia, Dally's girl – or she'd been Dally's girl until she cheated on him for the millionth time and he'd finally had enough. She was unsteady on her high heels and she spotted us and tottered over, falling into the seat next to me. Her breath blew in my face. Not even five o'clock, and she was drunk.

"Cinnamon," she said brightly, as if we were long-lost friends, "how are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Sylvie," I answered.

"I miss him," she said dramatically. "I miss Dallas. You must miss Johnny something awful."

I heard Ponyboy's breath catch. He stubbed out his cigarette and shot me a look and we both stood up. I had no desire to discuss Johnny with Sylvia. She'd been awful to him, jealous, I realized now, that Dally paid him so much attention, and she'd tease him and try to get him to touch her and embarrass him to death. She hadn't loved Dally, either, not really. His death was just an excuse for her to act like something important had happened to her.

"No, you should stay, Cinnamon," Sylvia slurred. "I'll buy you a beer – no one will tell your brothers. We can talk. We got somethin' in common, now. We both lost our boys."

I looked at her, her brassy dyed hair and thick makeup and her tiny skirt, smelling of whiskey and it wasn't yet dinner time. "No, thanks," I said, pushing Pony behind me and toward the door. "I ain't nothing like you."

* * *

When report cards came out two weeks later, they weren't great, but they were better than any of us had expected. Both Pony and I had made noticeable slips, but Darry didn't fuss too much because he knew we were trying. I pulled off a C in Geometry and I hope it killed Mrs. Mayron to give me the B I'd gotten on my last test. Ponyboy ended up with a C in English, which had never happened. He confided to me that he'd been flunking but Mr. Syme liked his essay so much he passed him.

"Was that the thing you wrote for like forty hours straight?" I asked. "He should have given you an A based on time and effort."

"That's the one." He looked at me shyly. "You want to read it?"

I gaped at him. "You want to let me?" I knew Pony wrote well, and I knew he wrote poetry and little stories sometimes, and he could draw, too – but usually the pieces of paper were well-hidden or destroyed. We would never make fun of him, and I think he knew that, but I also think he lived in mortal fear that some musing about a sunset would end up in Two-Bit's hands.

"Yeah." Pony's voice was more serious than I'd heard it in a long time. "Yeah, I think I do."

The theme filled up a whole notebook. I sat on my bed and read it straight through. It took me almost two hours. He kept sticking his head in and I kept waving him off. It was all about us. About Soda and Darry and me, and what had happened that night in the park and after. It was about being fourteen and losing your parents. It was about having a family and having real friends, friends who were family too, even though they weren't really related to you.

When I was done, I just sat there and waited, and he wandered back in, as I knew he would. "Oh, glory, Cinny – I'm sorry," he said, when he realized I was crying.

"No, no – Pony, this is wonderful," I stammered, trying to stop. "I didn't know – oh, man. You made Johnny alive again. And Dallas, it's just how he was -- it's so real, it's just like it happened, just like – Pony, this is amazing"

I flipped back to the beginning and got all choked up again. _My sister is kind and strong and beautiful,_ he'd written. _She looks like our mother, and sometimes when I feel sad or scared, it helps to just go sit by her. _"You never told me that," I said.

He shrugged, halfway between sheepish and embarrassed.

"And you love Soda best, huh?" I teased.

Ponyboy looked stricken. "I didn't mean – I mean, it's not that I don't love you or Darry, I just --"

I held up one hand. "It's okay. I love him best too. How can you not?" I handed Pony his essay back. "You should tell him that."

He rolled his eyes. Of course he wouldn't.

"And Pony?" I said as he was leaving. "You should save that notebook forever."

I put on my nightgown and brushed my teeth and wandered into the living room. Darry was sitting on the couch waiting for the news. A commercial for "I Dream of Jeannie" was on.

"Nice shirt," I said of Jeannie's outfit.

"Over my dead body," Darry answered.

I watched him for a minute, thinking about Pony's theme. In geometry, I was finally understanding, some things are called "givens." You don't have to monkey around with them to make them work. They just are. You start with the givens and then you can figure out your problems. You prove your answer.

We were like that. We loved each other. We were a family. Those were the givens. But it's nice to hear it every now and then, isn't it?

I went over to Darry and sat next to him. "Hey, Darry."

"Hey what? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I'm going. I wanted to say good night." I hesitated a split second and then I hugged him, hard, like I had that night in the hospital after the fire. After a surprised moment, he hugged me back.

"What's all this about?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said. "I just love you. Thank you for not putting us in foster homes."

It sounded completely stupid, but I meant it with all my heart. Darry must have known that because he just said hoarsely, "Why, you're welcome, Cinny-spice" before he kissed my cheek and let me go.

I went into Pony and Soda's room. They were in bed, but Pony was reading and Soda was fussing at him to turn out the light. I crawled in between the two of them.

"Cinny, you can't stay here," Soda complained.

"I came in to say goodnight."

"Goodnight," he smiled. Soda really is a beautiful boy. I know boys are usually called handsome, but Soda had some quality that flowed out of him, from somewhere inside of him, that made him beautiful in some sort of a masculine way. It wasn't just his good looks -- he was kind and loyal and sweet. Some girl, some girl better than Sandy, would be lucky to have him. We were lucky to have him.

I kissed his cheek. "I love you. Thanks for being such a great brother."

He raised one eyebrow at me, looking, for a brief second, like Two-Bit. "I love you, too, but you still can't sleep here. Scat."

Pony put his book down and sat up, looking at me curiously, then held out his arms. I scooted into them. He was going to be tall like Darry – even though I was a year and a half older, I fit right under his chin.

"Thanks for coming after me," he whispered in my ear.

"Thanks for letting me read your theme," I whispered back.

We sat there for a minute, and then Soda said in an exasperated voice, "Good glory, could y'all maybe do that at a decent hour? I know I said I didn't want any more fights and this is nice and all, but I have to get up for work in the morning."

I went into my own room and got into bed. The house was settling down for the night. I heard Darry brushing his teeth, the creak of Soda and Pony's bed as they got comfortable, the hum of the fridge.

"Soda?" I called.

"What?"

"Did you make cake?"

"'Course I did," he answered. "Go to sleep."

"You won't eat any anyway," Pony said.

"I might."

"You won't."

"Better than blue eggs for breakfast."

"Cinny, you don't eat breakfast."

"Enough of that, quiet down," Darry said sternly. I snuggled under the quilt, feeling content and safe, maybe for the first time since Mom and Dad died. You don't mind so much when someone's stern with you when you're sure they love you.

**The End**


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